39
Simon
Harlow and Evie didn’t return by dinner that night, nor were they back when Jayne and Shep headed to bed. Simon, who’d spent the day on his laptop in the living room, catching up on work, closed the screen and set the computer aside. His eyelids dragged, and with no clear indication of when Harlow and Evie were set to return, he thought it best to turn in for the night. With a stretch and a yawn, Simon crossed the room and killed the light. Leaving the couch for Harlow, he made his way back to the air mattress, walking through the dark until his toes brushed PVC. Once he’d settled, wrapped loosely in a billowing blanket he’d had to launder after last night had turned wild, Simon’s mind started to wander.
What if Harlow and Evie weren’t back yet because something bad had happened? What if they were stuck somewhere? What if they were in danger?
On a logical level, Simon knew that wasn’t the case. Harlow had his cell phone number—he could have easily called, or sent a text, if they were in enough danger that they couldn’t speak. Beyond that, Harlow was a former SEAL. While he’d suspended his military career, the training he’d received was still ingrained within him. Simon had seen it firsthand when Harlow had taken on Bastian and come out without a scratch.
Still…
What if they’d gotten into an accident?
What if Evie had changed her mind about being in Aurora, and they’d left?
Sickened by the thought, Simon rolled onto his back and allowed his eyes to adjust to the dark. As the world came back into view, he noticed the crack that ran across the ceiling, the same as it had always been. There’d been a time, not all that long ago, when he’d stared at that imperfection and lamented that this place would never feel like a home—that all the shitty parts of his life wouldn’t change. Couldn’t change.
How wrong he’d been.
Harlow had walked into his life unexpectedly, hadn’t he? And even if he were to leave it again, there would still be good times. There would be light. All Simon had to do was believe he would make it through. Grief had painted his world in shades of gray, but as time wore at its layers, it had begun to peel back to reveal color at last. There was no quick fix, no instant cure, no solution but hard work and perseverance, but now, having met Harlow and seeing that there was something more within himself, Simon had the stamina he needed to strip his soul of its dull coating—or at leasttryto strip it.
For now, that was enough.
As he lay in bed, lost to thought and gradually succumbing to sleep, the front door opened. Simon had left it unlocked for Harlow and Evie, but when he heard the knob twist and the door swing slowly open, a chill raced down his spine. There was always a fear, no matter how unfounded it was, that Bastian would come back. After he’d tried—and failed—to break into Jayne’s bedroom via the fire escape months ago, long before Harlow and Evie had stumbled into their lives, his attempts had grown infrequent, but Simon still worried. If Bastian got in, things wouldn’t be okay, and if Simon was the one who’d invited him in by leaving the door unlocked, he’d never forgive himself.
Nervous, he rolled out from beneath his blankets and sat up, waited, listened.
“I’m gonna go use the bathroom, then go to bed,” Evie whispered. Simon sighed with relief and flopped back onto the air mattress. There was a click as the front door shut, then thechck!as the lock engaged. “That was… that was a lot of fun. Thank you for bringing me out today, Dad. It was really good for me.”
“Love you, kiddo,” Harlow whispered back. “Sweet dreams.”
With Harlow around, Bastian wouldn’t come back. While he was an asshole, he knew when he was outmatched. If Simon was lucky, he’d forget about Jayne and Parker and leave them alone. What a paradise that would be. One less thing to worry about—one less chip of paint to peel away.
Evie finished in the bathroom, then Harlow went to use it. Footsteps, running water, the flush of a toilet. It was only when Harlow returned from the bathroom that Simon lifted his head and fully distanced himself from his thoughts. It had been a long day, surprisingly lonely without Harlow and Evie there to liven things up, and he was glad that Harlow was home.
“H?” Simon asked.
“Hey, Kid,” Harlow replied. “I didn’t realize you were still up. Did you have a nice Saturday?”
“I…” It had been spent quietly, just like Simon had wanted, but he’d found less joy in it than he would have liked. “I guess it was okay. I thought that having some alone time would help me recover after everything that happened this week, but now I regret not going with you. You and Evie must have had a fun time, huh?”
Harlow undid his belt and removed the khaki shorts he’d worn out that day. He stripped his t-shirt over his head and cast it aside. When he was left in nothing but his boxers, he made his way to the air mattress and sank to his knees, then climbed his way over Simon, like he’d taken to doing every night before they went to bed. It was torture not to be able to kiss Harlow fiercely and freely without risk of hurting his healing nose, but Simon settled for the way their bodies fit together, for the tenderness of Harlow’s hands, and for the sweet words they shared when they were alone.
Harlow settled over him, and although they were still partially clothed, he let his hips establish a rhythm, lazily brushing their cocks together again and again. A low, sweet kind of arousal swept through Simon, and he tilted his head back to expose his neck, begging for Harlow’s attention. Harlow rewarded him with short, hungry kisses that sped Simon’s heart.
Harlow made perfect the imperfect. Simon would never forget it.
“It was fun.” Harlow marked Simon’s skin with each utterance. “But I won’t lie—I’m glad to be home. I’m glad to see you.”
Simon blushed. “You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not.” Harlow’s hands found his. Their fingers wove together. Delicately, Harlow lifted both of Simon’s arms and crossed them above his head, holding them down. “I wish you would have come, too. The guys were so curious about you—even more curious than they were about Evie.”
“No…”
“Yep.” Harlow chuckled. The sound of it was so sincere that Harlow had to be telling the truth. Not even Evie could act so genuinely. “All of them are eager to meet you. Next time, if you’re feeling up to it, you should come. They’d love you. And the best part? TD talks so damn much that you won’t need to worry about being awkward or quiet.”
Simon laughed, and Harlow followed the vibration with his lips, kissing his way beneath Simon’s jaw.
